


Renewed Hope

by raiyana



Series: The Reader Inserts [12]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Skinwalker, Tumblr: ImaginexHobbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 21:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: 'Imagine being left behind at Beorn's' combined with 'Imagine being a dwarf-skinchanger and meeting Beorn.'





	Renewed Hope

“I want to leave Hallbera here,” Thorin said, looking torn as he stared at your broken leg. The injury was a result of a warg getting close enough to attempt to pull you from the tree you had climbed, and the massive teeth had been less than a finger’s breadth from severing major blood vessels. The powerful jaws had broken your leg, however, before Fíli had managed to pull you to relative safety. The Company had carried you down from the Carrock, and all the way to the sanctuary of Beorn’s, but you knew you would never be able to keep up with them even as the leg had been set and splinted, wrapped tightly in bandages to keep the bones from fusing wrong.

“I understand,” you whispered, though you wanted to rail at his suggestion, protest with your very last breath. You knew he was doing what was best for you, asking for the skinchanger’s hospitality. Óin had dosed you with something for the pain, but you felt weak from the loss of blood and heart-broken that you wouldn’t get to see them reclaim the Mountain. Seeing the same realisation in his blue eyes, you wanted to weep, though you also wanted to remain strong; leave all of your friends with the memory of your smile, rather than tears.

“The Lady will be safe here,” Beorn replied. You leaned back in the large chair where they had put you, infinitely careful of your injuries, and enjoyed the comforting smell of the blanket he had wrapped around you. It smelled like home.

Waving goodbye to the Company was the hardest thing you’d ever done, fearing what they might encounter in the dark forest.

As you waited for the bear’s return, you considered your options. Staying here was necessary, but when you were no longer surrounded by your kin, you feared Beorn’s reaction. Technically, you had invaded the territory of another bear, even if he was a Skinwalking Man. You wanted to whine pitifully, and had you been in your other skin, you would have, but shifting with broken bones was not advisable. You healed faster than Dwarrow in general, but you’d still need to stay here for a month at least. The soft nose of a dog against your palm startled you out of your morose thinking, the small animal giving you a small whuff and handing you the large mug of milk it carried.

“No use fretting, eh?” The animals had all smelled it, you thought, the parts of your scent that were different, but Beorn had not been near you in his bear form and his human nose was probably less keen, you thought.

 

* * *

 

Days later, the giant man – twice your height, or near to – returned. He found you outside his house, enjoying the sunshine as you mended a few tears in one of his shirts.

“You need not work for me,” he rumbled. Then his eyes widened, staring at you. A snarl ripped from his throat.

“Perhaps not, kinsman,” you replied quietly, having decided to come clean immediately. “It seemed the least I could do to repay your hospitality.” In a move swifter than the eye could follow, Beorn had picked you up, pressing his nose against your skin where your neck met your shoulder. He breathed heavily, and you could feel tears splashing into your warm skin. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you scratched your hands through his shaggy mane, just like you did to your brothers at home. “You’re not the last one, Beorn, I promise,” you whispered softly, hearing his breath hitch.

“But… _how_?” he asked, plaintive. Your feet were still dangling far above the ground, but you had no fear that Beorn would drop you.

“The Skinwalkers may have been the first to live in the Mountains… but not _under_ them. My line is old, very old, and we no longer remember when the first Changer was born.” You whispered, keeping up the soothing touch of your hands in his hair.

“Your family?” he asked, almost pleading.

“The trait seems to run true in our blood,” you mused, “we do not yet know if my youngest brother will Change, he was born in the skin of a Dwarf, but my brother and I both have a second skin.”

“Your companions did not know.” He stated, setting you down carefully once more, sinking down to sit beside you, his big shaggy head resting in your lap.

“No,” you said, “we rarely tell those not of the blood what we are. The King knows what I am, but I believe he is the only one.” You fell silent, still scratching through his hair as Beorn rumbled a purr in response.

“But you marry Dwarrow who are not walkers,” he finally whispered, seemingly confused.

“The blood is strong, Beorn,” you murmured. “I think you will find that any child of yours would be more than likely to share your form.” ¨

“I could…” he nearly choked on the words.

“You could have a family, yes,” you whispered. Silence fell between you once more, lasting until the last rays of afternoon sun disappeared behind the Mountains.

 

Beorn had picked you up, ignoring your protests – it seemed male Walkers were just as protective of females whether the other skin belonged to Dwarf or Man, you groused, but smiled at him when he sat you down at the large table.

“I will make a better chair for you,” he said, earning himself another smile as you set to preparing supper in companionable silence. If not for the size difference, you might have been home, your brother working beside you, you mused, a light smile on your face.

 

* * *

 

 

“Will you show me?” Beorn asked, weeks later, looking at you hungrily. Putting down the large bowl of peas you had been shelling, you looked up at him.

“My form?” you asked, pondering. Your bones were almost mended, you knew, there should be little difficulty in the shift and part of you _longed_ to change, to cast aside one form for another without worrying who would see. Beorn nodded. With a shrug, you began to undress, unsurprised when he followed suit. Nudity among walkers was quite acceptable, after all; in a people who regularly changed shape and body mass, clothes would not have lasted long when you shifted inside them, and so modesty and shyness were almost foreign concepts among yourselves. You had seen Beorn naked more than once during your stay, and he had seen your bared form too, bringing you down to the lake for a swim. With a shudder and a body-wracking tremble, you shifted, staring up at the large man who now stood even larger before you. Beorn’s face was cycling so rapidly through his emotions that you found it hard to keep up, seeing excitement, joy, and a touch of longing cross it.

“You are beautiful… but so small,” he whispered. Shaking your furry head, the russet fur a match to your other skin’s hair colour, your large ears pricked. Your leg did not hurt you, when you tried a few careful steps, and giving him a bear-grin, your smaller shape ambled towards the lake, wanting to swim. Halfway there, you were overtaken by the massive black bear that was Beorn, giving the bear equivalent of a laugh as he threw himself into the water.

 

* * *

 

Weeks later, you met Radagast the wizard once more, bringing a warning of a large orc army led by Azog. Looking at Beorn, you snarled, matching his dark expression. You would go to fight, help those you called kin and avenging those who had been lost to the Defiler’s dark amusements.

 

* * *

 

After the battle, the Dwarrow and Elves caught sight of a large bear, black as night and wrapped around a smaller shape, russet hair obscuring the small body.

“Hallbera?” Bofur asked, staring at the large bear. Beorn shook his head, nosing her shoulder with a pitiful whine. Shuddering through his own change, he looked up at the Company who had come running in response to Bofur’s scream.

“She fought… but the Orcs were too many for her,” he whispered, picking up the small body that no longer held life.

“Why is she naked?” Glóin asked, staring at Beorn as though he suspected the Skinchanger of nefarious deeds.

“Because she was… like me,” Beorn replied, cradling the small dwarf body in his strong arms and staring down at Glóin. “She told me your King was the only one of you who knew she was more than she seemed.”

“She’ll be given a burial befitting one of the Company, Master Beorn,” Balin promised solemnly.

“No.” The Man who was a bear stated with finality. “She will be taken back to her kin. I will take her back, give her body to her brothers.” Behind him, an Eagle screeched.

“Gwaihir has offered to bring you – and her – home,” Radagast said kindly. Beorn nodded woodenly. Still holding the small corpse, he climbed onto the back of the Eagle and let it bear him west. On the ground, the Company was left reeling, staring after the quickly diminishing shape of the Giant Eagle.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Himalayan Brown Bear.
> 
> Quite distinctive physically, as it possess a reddish-brown or sandy coat color and relatively large ears. This bear is smaller than most other brown bears found on the Asian continent. Prefers high altitude forest and alpine meadow.


End file.
